Happy New Year 2021, dear Readers!
Shall I look up to the New Year
for cleansing of the cobwebs
which has slowed me down
however, I feel time is my breath:
to hope there must be a platform
the telescopes must be fungus free,
I don't see through the lens
I see with my cataract eyes
the smokey towers of Babal.
You say I should hope for good
dream of resurrection
eat humour and read witticism:
You know love when you complain
I have only a sickbed time
to offer you longing for ICU
how do you think I will see Eden?
Is it just a form to see bright
time's one more leaf has turned
opening to a new chapter
perhaps of joy and fulfilment
well then, so be it :
Let my New Year be wishful
fruitful orchards and songbirds
make my life a warbling paradise!
Sabita Sahu
The end is always painful:
But end shall be all pain
the lily will close her sprightly wing
hiding her face in mud.
When there is an end
there is a beginning
beauty is born never to die
save the stabs of insensibility.
Love is always there to awaken
the moss on dull pavements
yet it is never ever full,
it searches for noble hearts
to bloom like a Rose.
The beginning, middle and
thousand ends die to new births
but he who loves and she who
opens petals never face any end.
Sabita Sahu
Where does the road lead me
to which unknown place ,
I chase an uncertain life battling
like Samurai with no sword in hand,
What does the planner has in mind
for me I do not know
I am amidst the scented phenyl,
running to deposit the pharmacy bills
doing baby sitting in front of ICU
watching the change of staff shift by shift,
scrolling the medical terms told by doctor's in google ,
trying to learn online money transfer
that bounces over my head.
I miss my black coffee,
I search for my virtual talks
My Prince's calls do not reach me
though I am not deaf
He waits for me on the other side
of the wall that is invisible,
I am waiting here measuring the
length of space and time
counting the distant stars
that are hardly visible from
my window sill..
Sabita Sahu.
In open worlds men and women
move hoping to change mountains
into plateous of private space,
wishes get wings in closed rooms
only to crash at the brick walls .
In hospital beds war goes on
hope and despair clash for victory.
The apron clad midwives push
and pull the fears of dark webs.
I am in the lobby watching the war
my own war is always won, for I
accept defeat to throw it away
when I see the nodding flower
assent my will's stubbornness.
Sabita Sahu
